The last few days have been long ones ... not so much in
time but in the way they are passing. One expects days like these, especially
in a setting outside of one's own culture.
Last night, a friend came over to search for Canadian
jobs on line. I helped him with the odd translation but, for the most part, his
English allowed him to look through the postings unassisted. About thirty
minutes into the search, there were several gunshots heard. Manuel began
talking briefly about how Santa Cruz was changing. A week ago, a woman across
the street from where he lives was killed in a 6 a.m. robbery. The shots we
heard were, to him, not so unusual and simply meant someone else had been
killed.
The statistics are not encouraging in Honduras. The
country leads the Americas in violent deaths per capita. The primary cause of
the violence is drug related. The offshoots of the vast quantity of drugs
heading to the United States are many and varied.
Often, now, mules are paid in drugs rather than cash. One
can easily see where that leads. Another odd sprout hit us this week. In a
project in Santa Rita, there are many trees. In Santa Rita, there are many
young men who have a drug habit of one sort or another. They support this by
fanning out from the town each day to forage for firewood which they sell in
order to buy drugs. One or two were in the property this week and, quite
likely, were smoking dope. They dropped a cigarette and it started a fire. We
lost a number of trees but, thankfully, not as many as we could have. In a
week, the rains should be here and then the fire hazard will drop dramatically.
As you can well imagine, the deforestation around towns
is an enormous problem. I have seen well over 40 young men heading up the road
on some mornings. If each cuts two or three trees each day ... you do the math.
The only saving grace for Honduras is that trees come back rapidly after
cutting and so can be 'harvested' on an annual or bi-annual basis. But, each
year the treed areas get pushed back a little further.
On Sunday I visited a couple who are living in a village
only ten kilometres away but off the grid. We talked about their experiences in
their new home. They told of the various neighbours and the problems being
faced in the community. A thirteen year old girl who is now 'married'. The
mother not able to say anything because she can't afford to feed the girl
should she be at home. Of course, in the long run, she will likely be having to
find food for two more rather than one.
I wonder if the huge disposable slave trade which draws
thousands of young men especially to the United States (and has done so for
many, many years) doesn't also have huge ramifications. There seems to be no
'elder' culture available to guide and discipline the burgeoning younger
generations. So many young people are growing up in a virtual vacuum without
knowledge, without education and without cultural values and mores. I have seen
a similar problem in Africa (and, with AIDS it is a growing problem). Our current
Canadian emphasis on putting our elders out of sight and out of circulation may
be setting our own culture up for implosion.
We talked about possibly finding a way to empower the
elders in the community to have a vision and the self respect needed to share
that vision in a meaningful way with their grandchildren. A cycle of cultural powerlessness is very
difficult to break. Anything that can be done to help people look outside of
that cycle is a valuable effort.
Yesterday, we had a visit from a woman who works with a
program helping wards of the state. She took our program with her so that
several of the young people they work with can continue studying. We need to
find the materials for Grades 1-6 so that more of their charges can be helped.
As I have mentioned before, the living conditions that these children must be
in before becoming wards of the state are awful beyond telling.
Wednesday I took some edible plants to an orphanage
nearby. Fortunately, a young fellow who enjoys gardening was around to take
charge of them. Hopefully they will survive the journey and the transplanting.
The orphanage is overwhelmed with abandoned children. Many have relatives of
some sort but are unwanted. It is so difficult for the staff to look at long
term planning for these children.
Yesterday, a nearby plot of land was being cleared. They
cut down a number of bananas and plantains. Fortunately, I noticed them and
Santiago and I rescued the stems and leaves for our worm bins (Santiago do much
more of the rescue work than I to tell the whole truth). They bins are now
piled high with the stems. For some reason, compost worms go bananas over the
stems (sorry). We shall see how fast the pile sinks.
Will stop. I had hoped if I talked long enough the
internet would come back on and I could post this right away. Alas. No such
luck.
TTYL
BB
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